Go to sleep
by sexy-ferret
Summary: Sherlock is kept awake yet again by his troubling thoughts. This time he decides that he needs some company which just so happens to be Mr John Watson. Just a little oneshot with an appearance by their son Hamish!


**I am back from my unannounced semi-hiatus! I apologize if I have not been on lately but I have been quite busy so far this year and have not found much time to write. I have a four day weekend and if I find the time I will post more. This is a little something my friend words-into-actions and I whipped up because we were bored. I did one half and she did the other. I hope you enjoy!**

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It was one of those sleepless nights for Sherlock. It was now a year and a half after his escape from death. Thoughts of Moriarty still haunted him. On nights like this one he would spend hours awake while everyone else in the house would be sound asleep. He tossed and turned, attempting to find a better sleeping position. It was to no avail. In hopes of comfort, he nudged the body alongside him. "Are you awake?"

There was no response so he nudged the body again. This time he was successful and the body turned to face him after turning on the lamp next to the bed. "I am now." John grumbled as he slowly opened his eyes and got up onto his elbow. Sherlock noted John's sarcastic tone.

"Sorry about that..." After the incident, Sherlock spent time in hiding. Mainly watching how John was coping with his sudden loss. It changed Sherlock for the better, he finally understood that emotion that so many spent life-times looking for. Sherlock finally understood the meaning of love.

It was sixth months after the incident at Bart's, that Sherlock finally mustered up the courage to talk to John again and reveal that he was in fact still alive. John was taking his morning stroll through the park. He often did this to recall fond memories, whether it be of his childhood or his times with the consulting detective. It was only during those walks where he realized his true sentiments towards Sherlock. Through it all, through each failed relationship he endured, one person always remained: Sherlock Holmes. It was in that moment that John realized that he loved him and the horrible truth was that Sherlock would never get to know.

When John saw Sherlock in the middle of that dirt path, he was in shock- in fact he ran, hugged Sherlock, in order to determine that he was real, and promptly socked him square in the jaw. Just like he had done when they had been chasing after Irene Adler. After the bleeding stopped and the stars left his eyes, he spent the next two days answering John's never-ending stream of questions. By the third day, the last question was asked: 'Why did you come back?'. Sherlock's only response, though hesitant at first, was a simple 'I love you John. Always have. Always will.'

Due to all this, he was more aware of how 'normal people' react to certain situations. In fact he became more perceptive to other's emotions and stopped acting like he did not know what emotions were. John was still trying to get used to the new loving Sherlock. "It's okay, what did you want?"

"I just wanted someone to talk to since I am unable to sleep."

"Why can't you sleep?" He was genuinely curious. Every night he heard Sherlock mumbling something in his sleep; all he could ever make out was one word: Moriarty.

"I am not sure...I am trying to fall asleep but I just cannot seem to relax." Sherlock avioded the subtext in John's question. He knew exactly what John _really_ wanted to know. Ever since their reunion, that was the one thing that Sherlock never gave a direct answer to. He was always certain that Moriarty was still out there; if Sherlock Holmes could escape death, then why couldn't Jim Moriarty?

John's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Try counting sheep or something."

Immediately, Sherlock contested John's suggestion. "How can I do that if there are not any sheep in here?"

John let out a sigh of disbelief; he truly thought that in the time they spent together, Sherlock had given up on being a smart-ass. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples."It's a figure of speech. You're supposed to imagine sheep and count each one that you see. It's a method of relaxation."

"...it is not working..."

In a moment of pure frustration, John practically yelled out, "Then try closing your eyes!"

"No need to snap at me."

"It's 2 am and you woke me up! Of course I'm going to snap at you!"

"Fine. Fine. Forget I asked." Sherlock grumbled, realizing the error in his ways.

"Daddy... I heard yelling? Are you and papa fighting again?" Little Hamish rubbed his hand over his eyes a blanket trailing behind him. Although Hamish was their adopted son, he was a true representation of the love John and Sherlock shared. It was Sherlock that suggested they adopt. So Sherlock and John adopted Hamish after their union; Hamish was only four years old then.

"Hamish, darling, go back to bed. Everything is fine."

"Yes, listen to your father and go back to sleep."

"...Okay. G'night daddy... G'night papa.."

Hamish went out the door and walked sluggishly to his bedroom, his footie pyjamas shuffling across the carpet. He always seemed to know when his parents were in a fight and he never was too pleased about it. Due to Sherlock's new sense of perception towards the emotions of others, he decided to console his dismal boy. Whenever he saw his son's blue eyes tear up, he felt pangs of sympathy; he was reminded of his childhood fights with Mycroft and how they left him in tears.

"And Hamish," Sherlock called out to his son.

"Yes papa?"

"If you find yourself restless, attempt the dreadful task of counting sheep."

"Don't be silly papa, there are no sheeps." Hamish giggled and went back into his bedroom.

Once he heard Hamish's door close all the way , John turned to Sherlock. "Oh, you think you are so clever don't you?"

"Why yes I do." After Sherlock's retort, he became aware of John's sarcasm.

"... Are you cross with me?"

"I'm fine Sherlock. Now follow Hamish's example and go to bed."

Impatiently, Sherlock pestered John once again, determined to receive an answer. "You have not answered my question."

John moaned, just wanting to get back to sleep, "No Sherlock. I'm not cross with you. You just need to learn that people don't appreciate being woken up before sunrise."

"I will try to remember that next time..."

"Okay. Now, if it's alright with you I'm going back to sleep now." John turned over and shut off the light on his bedside table.

"Goodnight, I love you."

"Love you too."

Sherlock turned off his light and pulled the covers over his chest. He was left awake in complete darkness, only left to think about the past and how to keep his family safe from the clutches of Moriarty-should he return again, and Sherlock was almost positive that would happen. Looking out the window, he saw a shadow creep across in the moonlight. Could it be just a tree branch waving back and forth? Or might it be another creature of the night? Sherlock shook his head and attempted to clear thoughts of Moriarty out of his mind. He was letting his foe get to his head. Instead, he thought about John to help him relax. His life had flipped completely from the first day he met John in the lab. It was that faithful day that he felt something he never had before. The great Sherlock Holmes had felt human.

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**I need to go but I will be back as soon as humanly possible. Do not worry though because I actually _am _writing things but it is a little bit of a challenge to do so when I am at school and the wifi blocks this site so I cannot see what I have written in past chapter (which is totally stupid). Once again big thank you to words-into-actions for helping make this story sound oh so lovely. Leave a review and tell us what you think.  
**

**Tata for now!**

**sexy-ferret**


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